


Don't Dream It

by goblin



Category: Askewniverse
Genre: Abstract, Comedy, Costumes, Crossdressing, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-18
Updated: 2001-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblin/pseuds/goblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay and Silent Bob go to a Rocky Horror Audience Participation Night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Dream It

**Author's Note:**

> TIME: Post-Dogma.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Jay and Silent Bob belong to Kevin Smith, View Askew and Miramax. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" belongs to Richard O'Brien and 20th Century Fox. The audience participation callbacks belong to Rocky Horror live casts and audiences everywhere. All the Rocky memorabilia the boy in the gold spacey Riff Raff costume claims to own actually belongs to me, including said costume. 
> 
> THANKS TO: starla, for being a lovely beta.
> 
> DEDICATION: For ren. 'Cos if she hadn't been so keen to see this, I would've given up on it long ago.

Jay was going on about Rocky Horror again. How much the Time Warp rocked, and how the guy who wrote it was so definitely stoned, and how good was the bit when that red-haired slut got shot between the tits with a laser.

Silent Bob was sick of it. I mean, sure, the movie was good and all, but it wasn't _that_ good. How come Jay liked it so much?

"You'll know what I mean, dude, when we go on Saturday night."

Go? Where?

"To the Rocky Horror Picture Show, dipshit. To an Audience Participation Night."

Bob looked unconvinced.

"It'll be cool, we get to throw shit at the screen and dress up and cuss at the top of our fucking voices. In a movie theater, man! When else do we get to do that without bein' kicked out?"

Bob shrugged. May as well.

* * *

Since Jay had insisted they both dress up, Bob had scrounged together a not-too-bad Eddie costume. Leather jacket, jeans, t-shirt - not too hard really. He didn't feel like going to much effort, but he thought he should put in a bit 'cos he could tell Jay was. 

Jay, unlike Bob, had kept his costume a total secret so far. 

Bob carefully drew the letters onto his knuckles. L, O, V, E. That's one hand done. H, A, T - 

He heard the creak of Jay's bedroom door opening. He looked up, expecting to see Jay in a very-well-done Riff Raff costume.

What he saw made him drop his pen, his unfinished E left as an F.

F for Fuck. 

Fuck. Ing. Hell.

First his brain switched off. Information overload. 

This... is... not... him... fuck?? What? Huh???

Then, pieces of information began to percolate his brain.

Legs.  
Jay had legs.

Well, of course Jay had legs, Bob knew that, he'd always known that. But he hadn't always known what fucking fantastic legs Jay had.

Suspenders. Oh god. Jay was wearing a suspender belt. And the suspenders were holding up, holy fuck, fishnet stockings. 

And there was nowhere safe you could look, when you started at his legs, 'cos you could only go down, down, down to find incredibly high-heeled feet, or up, up, up to black satin underwear ohfuckohfuckohfuck.

With an almost physical effort Silent Bob wrenched his eyes to what he imagined would be safer territory - Jay's face. But no. Not safe. Not safe at all.

Jay could've done his makeup heavily, exaggeratedly, and made himself grotesque. If only he had - then Bob could've laughed and sarcastically told Jay how gorgeous he looked. But the way Jay had done it, sarcasm wouldn't have been possible. 

It looked as if Jay had applied the unfamiliar paint nervously and with an unsure hand. He didn't have any foundation on. But his eyelids were smoky, and his eyelashes spiky, and his lips were shining blackberry-dark... 

Jay had apparently not found pearls, or an accurate corset. The one he was wearing was... black, and... lacy... and strapless. And it was short on him, leaving a little bit of pale waist between the end of it the start of the black - satin - ohfuckdon'tlookthere. 

Bob wrenched his eyes upward again. Hair. Look at Jay's hair. It's the same as it always was, surely. But, fuck, all Bob could think of were all the times he'd touched that hair casually, or with innocent affection, and how much more he'd enjoy it if he touched it _right now_.

And all this had gone through Bob's head in about five seconds, which was more than enough time for Jay to get sick of waiting for anything verbal from Bob. So, naturally, Jay got verbal himself.

"Dude, you look shit-scared."

Bob actually began to back away.

"Hey, just 'cos I'm all got up like a sweet transvestite, doesn't mean I'm gonna jump you or nothin'."

The words "jump you" entered Bob's brain and turned straight into images of Jay shoving him against the wall and pressing up against him and... licking his ear... Where the fuck was this stuff coming from??

"Man, if you're really that horrified, I'll go change into something a little less re-veal-ing," said Jay, pulling up his strapless corset a little as if to preserve his modesty. 

Bob tried to nod, but found to his horror that he was vigorously shaking his head.

"Snoogans," said Jay, looking extremely pleased with himself. "I'm gonna be a babe magnet in this outfit."

If Bob had been eating, he would've choked.  
If he'd retrieved his pen, he would've dropped it again.  
As it was, all he could do was think how much his eyebrows were hurting from being raised too high, too long.

"What?" said Jay, irritated. "Chicks love this shit. Trust me. If you wanna pick up a Rocky Chickie, you gotta have a fuckin' kickass costume." Jay grinned lasciviously. "And the better the costume, the more the chickies'll be chasin'. By the way, can I borrow your trench? 'Cos I sure as hell ain't gonna step out onto the street without bein', y'know, covered up..."

Bob nodded helplessly. 

"Thanks, bitch." Jay wandered into Bob's room.

Silent Bob raised his eyes to the heavens and quaked.

Please, God. Let me cope...

A long way up, God smiled. Oh, he'll cope, She thought. He'll cope alright.

* * *

During the walk to the bus stop, Silent Bob was extremely tense. His brain whirred away, making intricate plans for what to do if someone took offense to Jay's getup and started picking on them.

Jay was completely relaxed, despite the fact that he was tramping down the street in makeup, a trenchcoat, fishnets and high heels.

Fuck, thought Bob. When did he learn to walk in those?

They arrived at the bus stop just in time for the bus to pull up. They got on and took a seat. 

The journey, for Bob, was excruciating. Jay was talking the same shit as normal and at the same breakneck speed as normal, but... the sound of his feet jumping around and tapping and doing their normal insane Jay-foot-dance was wildly different when he had high heels on. It was loud and sharp. It was all Silent Bob could hear. And it made him unable to imagine, even when he stared resolutely out the window, that Jay was dressed as he normally was.

* * *

By the time they got there, the screening had just started. 

No, not just started. Because the movie wasn't even showing yet. Instead there was a guy on stage shouting about virgins and Jay was elbowing Silent Bob and saying, "Get up there."

Huh?

"Get up on stage, dumbass, you're a virgin."

Silent Bob gave Jay an incredulous look.

"A Rocky virgin. Get the fuck up there, all the virgins have to do it."

Do what?

"Come on, come on!" Jay shoved Silent Bob into the aisle. He frowned, and looked nervously back at Jay. Jay motioned expectantly to the stage. 

Bob sighed and climbed the stairs to the stage. There he joined the line of freakishly-dressed people of uncertain gender.

"So," said the MC, "what I'm gonna do is, I'm gonna hold the microphone up to each of you in turn, and you have to make the noise of a person of the opposite sex - having sex. Best one gets a prize - "

With superhuman speed, Bob was backstage. 

He stood unnoticed in the wings, breathing fast. No way. There was no fucking way in the world he was going to verbalise a single syllable on that stage. Silent means Silent. 

Ever the strategist, Bob waited until the entire humiliating virgin ceremony was over and all the virgins were crowding down the stairs. And he deftly extricated himself from the black curtains and joined the crowd. 

Bob whistled soft relief to himself, and ignored Jay's look of venom as he sat back down.

As he expected, a second later Jay was grinning again. Finally the movie was starting, and the crowd had begun their synchronised interruptions.

//"A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, God said - LET THERE BE LIPS! And there were, and they were good."//

Silent Bob raised his eyebrows appreciatively at Jay for the Star Wars reference.

"Star fucking Wars!" said Jay gleefully. "Didn't I tell you this shit was good?"

* * *

//"Where's your fucking neck? Where's your fucking NECK??"//

Okay, enough with the neck jokes... Yes, the criminologist has no fucking neck. It was funny the first time, thought Bob, but now it was just getting boring. 

Jay sure was getting a kick out of it though.

* * *

"Hold this." Jay handed him something and ran out into the aisle and up onto the stage.

Toast. Where had Jay gotten toast? _Why_ had Jay gotten toast?

Bob frowned, tried not to be disturbed by the sight of Jay doing the Time Warp with extreme enthusiasm, and absent-mindedly ate the toast. 

* * *

//"Just a moment, Janet - we don't want to interfere with their celebrations."

"This isn't the Junior Chamber of Commerce, Brad!"//

Jay slid in beside Silent Bob and held out his hand.

Bob stared at it. Surely Jay didn't want him to...

"Where's my toast?" said Jay.

Oh, toast. He _doesn't_ want me to hold his hand - 

Uh oh.

"Well, where is it, tubbs? I gave it to you to hold before I went up there."

Bob tried to surreptitiously brush crumbs out of his beard.

"BITCH! You fuckin' - "

//"I'm here, there's nothing to worry about."//

And with that, the entire audience screamed along with Janet to herald the arrival of Frank. And Jay turned his attention once more to the stage and the screen.

Saved, by a singing transvestite... 

Fucking surreal.

* * *

Intermission. They have a fucking intermission? What movie has an intermission these days?

Bob bought a choc top and ate it in quick bites, angrily. It was approximately one minute before his automatic Jay homing beacon went off and his legs carried him to where Jay was talking to two of the famed Rocky Chickies. 

"You made 'em?" Jay was saying. "No shit! They look just like the ones in the movie."

"All I had to do was sew a few shiny ribbons on an ordinary pair of black shorts," the girl dressed as Columbia said. "It's not that big a deal."

"But they _rock!"_ insisted Jay. Then he turned to the other one, who was dressed only in a white bra and slip skirt and high heels. "And you," he said seriously, "what a cute slut _you_ make."

The girl giggled. Bob rolled his eyes. Only at Rocky would girls like being called sluts...

Bob's frustration was mounting. He automatically began to give off an air of menace.

The Columbia girl noticed. "Hey, do you know that guy?" she whispered, pointing behind Jay. "He looks kinda scary."

Jay turned around and saw Silent Bob looming there. "Lunchbox!" said Jay, apparently pleased to see him. "Ladies," he said, "meet my hetero life partner, Silent Bob."

Bob didn't move.

"Come on, Bob, come say hi to the chickies."

Bob still didn't move.

The Janet girl gave a nervous little laugh. "Um... look, we gotta go," she said. 

"Yeah," said the Columbia girl, who, like her friend, was getting loud and clear the "Go Away" vibes that were emanating from Silent Bob. "See you 'round, Jay." And the two of them tripped off.

Jay rounded on Bob angrily. "What the fuck was that all about?" he demanded.

Bob threw him an unreadable look, and walked away.

"Fuckin', fuckin', fuck..." Jay shook his head at Bob's inexplicable behaviour, and went off to find other people with which to spend the rest of intermission.

* * *

Oh no, not the sex scenes...

Bob was dealing with the Frank and Janet one, but he knew what was coming. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god...

Frank and Brad. 

Not dealing. Not dealing at _all_. 

He'd seen this on video before and, hey, it was okay, it was comedy, funny stuff, ha ha ha... ha... 

Not funny anymore. Not with what looking at Jay was _doing_ to him tonight. Not with what the live cast's Frank and Brad were doing behind the blue sheet. 

And Jay was loving it, god, he was clapping and laughing and joining in with the callbacks he knew. Bob felt his throat tighten and his brain swirl. 

Come on, end, scene, _end_... 

* * *

//"Don't dream it... be it..."//

Unnnghh... this was not like watching it at home. There's a difference between watching a whole bunch of people swimming around kissing and groping each other in a pool, and watching a whole bunch of people rolling around kissing and groping each other _live on stage_... And, what with the relative lack of callbacks, there was nothing else to concentrate on. 

Bob sneaked a look at Jay. Leaning back in his seat with his legs crossed (his _legs crossed_ , goddamnit!), Jay's huge grin was transformed alarmingly by that dark lipstick. 

Oh, fuck... 

Bob stared at the word HATF on his knuckles, trying and failing to think of nothing at all.

* * *

By the time the credits were rolling, Bob knew three things. 

1) He had a major, major fucking thing for Jay.

2) Jay couldn't possibly be straight, and if Bob was reading the evidence right, might have an equally major thing for him.

3) He fucking hated this movie.

What he didn't know was what to do now. 

That became clear, though, when he looked to the seat next to him and found it empty. What to do now? Find Jay. Protect Jay. Possibly, later, attempt to talk to Jay.

Errggh. Talking.

* * *

Bob found Jay having some kind of contest with two other guys about who was the most obsessed with Rocky Horror. Jay was losing. He didn't have the DVD, after all, or the 21st Anniversary Edition video, or the original London cast recording, or the original Roxy cast recording or the calendar or the Audience Participation double tape or the Rocky Horror suspender belt or the Rocky Horror Show Book. All of which the boy dressed in a gold spacey Riff Raff outfit claimed to have. The list of memorabilia the boy dressed as Rocky claimed to possess defied description. 

"So I'm new to all this!" said Jay, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I haven't got all the shit you do. But I swear, by next month's Rocky Night, I'll have it all."

"Bravely spoken," said the guy in the Riff Raff outfit. On reflection, Bob realised it could in fact be a Magenta outfit. They were dressed the same in that scene, weren't they?

"You're sadly deprived!" said the Rocky boy, who appeared completely unselfconscious wearing only gold underwear. "You've got to come over and watch the 25th Anniversary Edition at my house. It's got the best interviews."

Silent Bob began to loom again.

The two boys picked up on this, and began to back away. "Uh... actually don't worry about it," said gold underwear boy. "They're mostly the same interviews as on the 21st Anniversary Edition, so..." And with that, they were gone.

Jay whirled around. "You did it again!" he accused. "What the shit is wrong with you tonight, man?"

Bob looked at him darkly, and said nothing at all.

* * *

"... and you scared away those bitches, what the fuck was that all about? And those guys, bein' perfectly nice and normal and you go all evil-eyed on their asses and they run the fuck away! What, I'm not allowed to have any friends other than you, is that it? You wanna keep me all to yourself?"

Jay's complaints came fast and furious all the way home. Bob sat stoically silent the entire time. He knew from experience that if he wanted to get a word in edgeways now, he was gonna have to wait for Jay to burn himself out. Which could take awhile. 

Bob was patient. Jay had taught him that long ago.

* * *

They were home and Jay was still ranting as he stomped into his room to get changed.

Silent Bob looked at the little imprints Jay's shoes had left on the carpet.

He heard a string of muffled curses and then the clink of a suspender belt hitting a wall. Suddenly Jay stormed out again. 

"And you know what else?" he said. "You fucking ate my toast."

There was a long pause.

Bob was still dressed as Eddie.  
Jay was jeansed and shirtless, his makeup still intact. 

Silent Bob opened his mouth, and, for the first time that night, spoke. 

"Did you know Frank slept with Eddie?"

"WhattheFUCK??"

"First you spurn me for Eddie, then you throw him off like an old overcoat for Rocky. That's what the red-haired chick said." Bob continued to speak quietly, making no attempt to imitate Columbia's outraged tone. "Frank left her for Eddie. I never got that line before."

Jay shifted his weight uncomfortably, from one bare foot to the other. "Neither did I," he said.

"Really?" said Silent Bob. "You didn't pick Frank specifically because you knew I was Eddie?"

"What the fuck are you _on_ , man - "

"Are you gonna throw me off like an old overcoat for a blond guy in gold underwear?"

"Hey, I ain't gay, motherfucker - "

"I know. But you're not straight either."

"The hell I'm not! I love women, I - "

"I saw you flirting with those guys, Jay."

"Bullshit, that was _not_ \- "

"Jay, I remember what Rufus said."

Jay lunged into Bob's face, occupying his entire field of vision. "Don't you dare fuckin' bring that up, you, you..."

The words stopped flowing and Jay just kept breathing. 

And they were both breathing, loud breathing, angry breathing, in and out, and their faces were so close they were breathing in and out each other's breath. 

And all Bob could think of was blackberry lips and pale expanses of chest and how he'd screwed everything up forever but hang on, Jay should be stepping back and calling him a fat gay fuck right now, and instead he was still here, breathing, breathing, and fuck, if that wasn't lust floating in those irises then Bob was now officially insane...

And Jay was turning to flee, to run away from a situation he couldn't handle, and gold hair was flying in Bob's face and his reflexes kicked in and he grabbed Jay's wrist, hard. 

And Jay had gone as far as he could go with Bob holding onto him and he'd stopped with a jerk, and rebounded back and crushed against Bob and kissed him, kissed him, kissed him, tongues, need, fuck, god, love, jesus, fuck. 

sharpness  
melting  
bristle  
bare  
craving  
swirling  
velvet  
friction  
scarlet  
licking  
hipbones  
feather  
decibels  
jagged  
gripping  
swaying-burning-sliding  
S C R E A M I N G  
twitching  
crying  
floating  
breathing

breathing

 

breathing

 

breathing

 

Breathing. 

 

 

Breathing in and out each other's breath.

 

 

 

~end~


End file.
